


A Soldier in Time and Space

by cartoonmoomba



Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack Crossover, Gen, Humour, obviously non canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6896632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonmoomba/pseuds/cartoonmoomba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara and Me know how to pilot their TARDIS, unlike Clara's previous companion. That does not, of course, account for the fact that their ship is sentient and dead-set on dumping them in Alternate Universe New York City, 1943, to pick up one Bucky Barnes only to spit him out some odd 70 years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soldier in Time and Space

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
> 
> I sat down to rewatch the first Captain America movie and accidentally forwarded to the part where Jenna Coleman appears as Bucky's date. Thought about how much I love both Bucky and Clara, in their respective fandoms. Next thing I know, I was writing this instead of watching the movie.

 

 

She does not mean to do it, of course - unlike her previous companion she knows how to operate a TARDIS. The instruction manual Me had found was very helpful (though not that the Doctor was careless with his ship but Clara did appreciate a certain lack of turbulence when flying). But the TARDIS was not any other ship and so she had taken the reigns, so to speak, and the two immortal girls found themselves staring at the observation screen and the innocent "New York City, 1943" hovering beside an equally innocent looking city street.

"America?" Clara voices their joint surprise at finding themselves in such a year, least of all on Earth. When the TARDIS overrode her commands and took them on her own ride they had not expected anything ordinary or even familiar - they had expected, or Clara at least had - some far flung planet whose name they'd have to dig deep to find.

If anything her adventures with the Doctor had taught her, though (and the very evident lack of his presence and the way they parted still makes her heart ache in the cavity of her lungs but she files the feeling far off in her mind) was to never underestimate the ordinary. _Nothing is ever as it seems, Clara_ , his voice comes back as an echo in her mind that she suspects she'll never rid herself of. _Well, unless it is and then it is terribly boring and not worth our attention._  
  
"I suppose we should go out then." Me's words brings her out of her brooding, the girl's voice as doubtful as Clara's had been moments ago. "Can't say I've been to America yet. Always wanted to visit - or perhaps I have and it's just been lost." The lips on her face pull up into a smile. "Can't ever tell anymore, really."

"So it's always like a new adventure, then," Clara offers her companion and the two exchange amused looks. Immortal though they both may be, their brains remain simply human and there are only so many memories that can be stored. Me's collection of journals had been moved onto the ship and Clara's taken up the hobby, writing into the dead of night with the hum of the TARDIS in her ears. Lately she's found herself perusing the previous entries instead of just setting them aside, marvelling at the little details that she had recorded that no longer register in her mental recollections. (Except the Doctor, he's an unforgettable ghost that's settled in her mindscape as a constant companion and isn't that funny - she images she had been his ghost during those millennia he had been tortured inside the Confession Dial and they just keep swapping roles.)

They emerge onto the street in appropriate clothing, seamed stockings in place and victory rolls pinned up in their hair. The Diner-TARDIS behind them glimmers brightly in the darkness of the street, a decade too futuristic and ignored by any casual passer-by all the same. Clara gives the door a fond pat before the girls eye the scenery in front of them.

"Right in the middle of the war," Me observes with a tone in her voice that belies her age and both the experience and the disregard it's brought her. "Nothing to do but look around. I'll take left, you go right?"

They split after agreeing to meet up in an hour and Clara bundles into the cardigan she'd pulled over her dress earlier in the Wardrobe, the low heels of her shoes clacking against the pavement. There is a chill in the air as night gradually descends, the darkness it brings covering street corners and causing streetlights to flicker on with an electric buzz. She can't quite place her finger on it but something around her feels different, the very air as it shifts tasting slightly... something. It's not traffic or food or the regular day to day smells, it just... _stinks_. It catches in the back of her throat and sticks there, this strange air trapped in her body only furthering the shivers that dance down her spine. _Nothing is ever as it seems_ , she reminds herself and almost sticks out her tongue in a very Doctor-like move to properly taste her surroundings. She hesitates for a second and then does it anyway - the strangeness floods her tastebuds and catches under her tongue and she makes a face, wanting to spit out the sudden presence. _Bad idea_ , she chides herself and makes little _pweh_ noises.

She wanders the streets for some time longer, mapping them in her mind and marvelling as she always does at the pieces of history presented before her. The strangeness of the air is pushed back to her mind for the time being but remains ready to spring forth to remind her if anything odd were to happen - the yelling that she can pick up from a block away is not odd (at least, not her brand of odd) but she hurries on anyway, driven forth by her curiosity and the knowledge that the TARDIS must have landed them here for some specific reason. And in her experience, it's always best to follow the commotion.

Clara can hear the jeers coming in clearer as she nears the mouth of a small alley. A streetlight flickers near it and inside she can make out two broad-shouldered figures advancing on a smaller one before them, laughing all the meanwhile. One has a beer bottle in his hand and Clara's instincts flare up - she was a teacher ( _in another life,_ her mind whispers) and even before that she would not _ever_ tolerate bullying.

"Oi!" She calls out and starts stalking forth, very well aware of the hemline of her dress and the unfortunate lack of pockets it afforded her. She had not been able to pack the little items she usually carries: her pepper spray, a small pocketknife, on occasion even a taser - she has never been one for outright violence but running around the universe once or twice had taught her the necessity of some sort of defense. The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver-glasses and well, she had nothing. Me had helped her pick up some close combat moves that Clara is sure will be enough to take out the two thugs turning their attention to her, and if they happened to be particularly skilled or - God forbid - aliens, well, she had more than enough experience in grabbing onto someone's hand and busting her ass away from the scene.

"What's a pretty dame like you doing in a place like this?" The thug on the left calls out and gives her figure an obvious look. "Ain't no place for pretty things, doll."

"Why don't you turn around and go back right the way you came," his companion joins in, a leer on his face that churns Clara's guts. "Unless, of course, you want to join my friend and me after for some fun of our own."

The two burst out laughing and Clara scrunches her nose. She had yet to find anything more disgusting in the universe than sexist men. She would take aliens over them any day. "I think not! Why don't you two gentlemen just go on your merry way and leave your companion to his own business?"

Their laughter only increases in pitch and the figure they had been advancing on - small stature, thin, male with short blond hair - even begins looking uncomfortable at her words. _Men_ , Clara thinks darkly. "We've got ourselves a firecracker and a Brit to boot!" The grins on the men's faces are anything but kind. One of them turns to the small blond and smirks.

"You've even got a dame defending you, Rogers. How's that for your code of honour?"

Rogers peers at her from behind them, an uncertain look on his face as he tries to smile. "You really best be going, miss. It's not safe to be out alone at night." The tips of his ears have turned red, something Clara can spot even from this distance and light. Her heart tugs at the image of him, trying to reassure her with his pale face and large blue eyes even as she begins to notice the bruises on his face and the split in his lip beginning to bleed red.

"I'm perfectly fine where I am." Clara's chin juts out in the air as she takes in the scene. "In fact, I'll be even more fine once you leave this man and go off to enjoy each other's companies somewhere away from here." She raises a brow at them and crosses her arms, subtly widening her stance. "I'm sure credible gentlemen like you have better places to be in the middle of the night." The sarcasm drips heavy from her words and the two before her shift on their feet. The laughter on their faces begins to turn into anger.

"Now look here—" One of them starts before cutting off, his jaw locking and Clara has a second to detect a presence behind her before a heavy hand clamps down on her shoulder. If not for the relief suddenly flooding the blond man's face she would have grabbed at it and flipped her assailant over her shoulder - in fact, her body still twitches to do so purely from instinct and she has to consciously calm the tension that rises in her shoulders.

The owner of the hand quickly removes it and strides to stand before her in a protective stance. "Evans, Petterson," his voice greets in a deceptively friendly tone. "You heard the lady. I'm sure you both have places to be and we wouldn't want to insult the pretty dame's request." He turns to throw her a wink over his shoulder and Clara has a moment to observe his face. Strong jaw, short cut brown hair, blue eyes and a frame on par with the two thugs. _Much handsomer than the two thugs_ , she notices with a trace of appreciation.

"Only 'cause your girl's here," one of them calls out after a terse silence and Clara bristles at his words. "Wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of her."

The mystery man chuckles. "Oh, I'm sure that ain't have been the case." His voice is thick with an American accent Clara can't place and instead watches as the men - Evans and Peterson - leave the alley after throwing them all several last leers, the ones that linger on her decidedly lewd in nature. She rotates her body so as to not have her back open to them as they go, until she can hear the sound of their footsteps disappear down the street. She turns back to the two left with her in the alley.

The blond looks irritated at the other's presence, reaching up to press a hand to his bleeding lip. "I had it handled," he comments, to which the brunette only walks forward and slaps him on the back. The blond winces.

"Sure you did, Stevie," the brunette chuckles. His attention turns to Clara and she keeps her widened stance, alert for any of their movements. Her eyes fall to the blond that is now shielded by his bigger friend.

"You gonna be okay?" She calls out as friendly as possible, tracing the way his breathing has turned slightly laboured. _Asthma?_ Her mind supplies. _Exhaustion?_  
  
"Stevie" flushes red. "Just fine, miss."

"Good." Clara nods at the two and smiles. "I'll be on my way, then."

She's barely turned before the brunette is calling out to her, his footsteps coming up to stand beside her. "We never did catch your name." His voice is all charm and old fashioned flirting as he smiles down at her. Clara notes that he can't be older than his early twenties; barely a child, then. Her own smile back at him teems with amusement.

"Don't think I enjoy the idea of giving my name to strange men on the street," she teases him with a flirty smile of her own, wanting to watch him flounder before her. He recovers with impressive speed, the only sign of his surprise being the slight raising of his eyebrows.

"I'll start first then." He gestures to his friend behind him. "Steve Rogers, miss, and I'm James Barnes. You can call me Bucky." Steve offers her a terse smile, still clearly uncomfortable. Clara's heart softens.

"Don't suppose we are strangers anymore then," she replies. "Clara Oswald." She sticks out her hand and is only mildly surprised when James _\- Bucky, wherever did he get that nickname from?_ Her Doctor voice scoffs - grabs it and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it. Clara can feel her cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink and almost tells him, _I'm too old for you, cowboy._

"You from around here?" Bucky drawls in that heavy American accent of his, all grinning smile and eyes. "Don't know how they do it back home, doll, but this definitely ain't a place for a pretty dame like you to wander at night."

Clara snatches her hand back and places it on one hip. "I had it perfectly handled, thanks." She ignores the look of doubt on his face at her words - countless experience has taught her better than to try and argue with a man bound by his time period. "And no, I'm just in town visiting. Seeing the sights, all that."

"Not much to see here." She had barely even noticed Steve coming up to join him and starts at his voice. "There's only the Expo tomorrow." His face turns pink again as he registers her full attention.

"The Expo?" Clara echoes him and the background presence of the TARDIS in her mind hums as if saying _there, Clara Oswald_. Come to think of it, the humming has been there the whole time and she had just been unaware of it due to the adrenaline of the situation. She gazes at the two men before her with a renewed interest _. What's so special about these two?_ She sends back to the TARDIS. The ship only hums back at her, silent.

"Stark Expo," Bucky clarifies as if that answers it all. She gives him a blank look and he rushes on to explain. "Tech stuff. Hear they're demonstrating a flying car as the main attraction."

"In 1943?" The words escape her mouth, accompanied by her eyes widening. "That's pretty early."

Steve and Bucky exchange confused glances at her response. "Too early, miss?" Steve asks.

She waves his question off and turns all her sweetness into a smile aimed in his direction. His eyes drop to the ground with embarrassment. "Never mind that, Mr. Rogers. Now," she eyes the two in front of her. "Would you two boys say it's worth checking out for a girl visiting the town?"

Bucky breaks out in a laugh and even Steve looks surprised. "Only if you want to see the most amazing things, doll. Stark's gonna lead us to a new future soon - or so he claims. Bet you won't get anything like this back home."

"Great!" Clara claps her hands and begins to feel that old, familiar sense of excitement bubbling up inside of her at the prospect of _something new_. "Where's it taking place?"

Bucky's grin returns at her words. "Well, Miss Clara, instead of seeing it all by your lonesome, perhaps you'd be interested in attending it with Stevie and me - as a thank you for coming to a dashing rescue to my friend here."

Steve turns downright magenta at his words. "Bucky!" He hisses and his friend only throws one arm around him as he continues smiling at Clara.

"Well, doll, what do you say?"

Inside of her the TARDIS continues her humming. Clara returns the smile being thrown at her.

"I think I'd like that, Mr. Barnes."

* * *

.

.

* * *

When she meets Me later back in the TARDIS, she recounts her tale and is met with the amused face of her companion. "So you've got a date with not one, but two American men to this Stark Expo. You move fast for an old lady."

Clara laughs in response to her words and tries to remember how old she is. She can't be that old, right?

"I'm meeting them tomorrow evening around the corner here," she says once she realizes that yes, indeed, by societal standards she was cradle robbing. Despite her purely pure intentions - there was just no time for romance anymore, not when you had an entire universe to explore and your heartbeat was trapped between one breath and the next. "Also, is it just me, or is there something wrong about the air here?"

Me follows the switch in topics easily and reaches up to the screen before her to swipe it over to Clara. "I noticed that too," she says as Clara takes in the readings before her. "Alternate universe to our own. Not quite different enough to be too noticeable, but just enough to be barely. The air, for instance."

Clara wrinkles her nose at the taste of the air she had swallowed earlier being "not too noticeable". "Alternative universe, huh." She pats the TARDIS console. "Must be quite the event happening here for you to bring us this far."

Their ship sings in agreement and the two women observe in silence, caught in their thoughts, before Me breaks them out of it. "Come on, old lady, we've got a date to prepare you for."

* * *

.

.

* * *

And then, in true Doctor-and-Clara fashion she still can't quite escape, things quickly turn downhill.

The evening had not started off thus. She had met both Bucky and Steve at the agreed location and time just as planned, donning a new dress and cocking an eyebrow at Bucky's army uniform. The three had meandered the city streets to the Stark Expo, where they had met up with a blonde friend of Bucky's (Clara realized with amusement that she was, indeed, on a double date) and explored the event grounds. Technology slightly beyond the time period of Clara's universe greeted her and she allowed herself to be tucked under Bucky's arm as he proudly explained the gadgets to her, with her chiming in occasionally to ensure that his ego had not inflated too much. It was almost nice, acting like a girl in the 40s on a date with a handsome guy and his friends. Being almost _normal_.

Unfortunately for Bucky and Steve - both perfectly mannered, polite young men though much too flirty on Bucky's part - Clara did not want nice or normal anymore. Clara wanted, and lived, for adventure, for that adrenaline rush to a heart that was no longer beating.

It's after the presentation by Howard Stark himself (and at his presence the TARDIS simply dances in her mind, and Clara suspects that were she a Time Lady - and she once was in her life, a fragment of her - the time traces she would see around him would simply scream of his importance to the timeline) that alarm bells begin going off in her head. Literal ones as she recognizes the bells of the TARDIS ringing and calling her home before she is left in this time period.

"Clara?" Bucky asks her as she tenses beside him and then steps away, swiftly passing the ice cream cone she's holding into his hand. "Is everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine," she replies back to him with a terse smile. "Gotta go, sorry! Good luck in the war." She turns to Steve as she starts backing away. "Steve, nice meeting you, gotta run now!"

And she turns on her sensible heels and bolts to their surprised cries of her name behind her.

* * *

.

.

* * *

Inside the TARDIS Me gives her a wild look as she runs around the console, attempting to get their ship under control. "What's happening?" Clara demands and immediately joins in, trying to remember everything she's read in the manual book.

"No idea, she just suddenly started acting up—" the ship shudders almost as if taking offence to Me's words, throwing both women to their backs with the force of it.

"That was uncalled for!" Clara yelps. Above her the console screens whir and the time clock begins ticking, the months and days speeding away into years. "Where are you taking us, you crazy girl!?"

The TARDIS engines screech in response and she keeps shaking. Me glares at Clara from across the console room where she's holding onto a barrier to keep herself safe. "Good idea, Clara, insult the ship in the middle of her tantrum!"

"Tantrum?!" Clara cries out and scrabbles to find purchase. "And I'm the only insulting her!?"

Both are cut off as the interior darkens before the lights flash on again, the TARDIS groaning as she continues her turbulent flight. Moments pass until the sound of the front doors flinging open grabs the attention of both Clara and Me, who can only stare in horror and confusion as a body flies through them and hits the floor, defying all laws of physics, instead of the console straight at the end of its trajectory course.

The doors snap closed behind it and with a final groan the TARDIS settles.

Clara is the first to recover her wits and quickly approaches the body lying in the room, hesitating only for a moment as it begins to moan. Me yells out behind her about running to grab a med kit from the Infirmary, ordering a med scan for the ship to perform, and disappears.

Up close she can recognize that the body is a male, clearly alive and wearing a military uniform. Closely cropped dark hair is slicked back with what she can assume is sweat as it tangles on the TARDIS floor, and Clara settles down beside his head to check on his vitals.

The man's head lolls to her side, eyes cracking open just a smidgeon and she can't hold back the cry of surprise that escapes her.

"Bucky!?"

The man groans again at the sound of his name and Clara rushes to put his head on her lap, running her fingers over his face and neck in a search for any visible head injuries. He looks worse for wear and older than the Bucky she had seen not even an hour ago, but most definitely still Bucky Barnes.

(The TARDIS shifts and settles like a satisfied cat.)

Bucky's eyes open again and regain their focus on her face. A trace of recognition sparks in them after several moments and he tenses. "Clara Oswald?"

"Uh," she replies, reaching forward to smooth his hair back from his face and pat his clammy cheek. "Hi."

His voice is hoarse and confused as he attempts to sit up and take in his surroundings. "The hell is going on— I was with Stevie and I let go and—" his eyes pass over the interior of the TARDIS and then settle on her again. "You're that girl from the Expo, you just disappeared and we couldn't find you and—" he breaks off again and his brows furrow even further. "You don't look a day older. Are you wearing the same clothes? I definitely remember you looking as pretty as this." He blinks. "Am I dead, then? Is this Heaven?"

His breathing's turned rather irregular and Clara reaches forward to grab his shoulders and steady him. "Breathe, Bucky." Whatever force had thrown him into the TARDIS would not have left him alive. Clara hides a wince at the thought. "I need you to breathe with me, soldier. Deep in, deep out."

He follows her instructions and several moments pass in silence. Clara wonders where Me is with that medkit, and if perhaps the TARDIS is twisting the time stream inside of her to allow them this moment of privacy as Bucky begins to calm down.

"You're not dead," she tells him before he can ask again. "And yes, I am wearing the same clothes as the night of the Expo. That's because, uh," her mind blanks. They rarely picked up companions between her and Me, and whenever they do this was always the hardest part.

"I'm in Heaven," Bucky tries to cajole her with an uncertain smile, filling in for her sudden silence. "Pretty girl like you, can't be anything but. Course means I left Stevie behind but—" A look of pain flashes across his face and Clara's heart stutters.

"You're not dead!" She screeches (almost!) in her rush to reassure him. Nice young man like him, caught in a horrible war, he doesn't deserve those thoughts. "This is, um, my spaceship. My time travelling spaceship." At his blank lack of response she keeps talking, coming close to babbling. "I still look the same because for me I just saw you like, twenty minutes ago, though I haven't aged a day because well that's not really possible for me anymore, but time passed for you and my ship just kind of threw herself in your way, I guess, to catch you falling for God knows what reasons an—"

Me finally emerges behind her with a clattering of footsteps and hard breathing. Both Clara and Bucky turn to her arrival and Clara notices that she not only brought the medkit but convinced one of the floating hospital stretchers to come along because there it rests beside her, hovering in the air.

Clara turns her attention back to Bucky. "Um," she says. "That's my companion, Me. As in not me but her name is actually Me and she has a floating stretcher."

Bucky eyes her, and then Me and the stretcher. He turns to Clara again. "Huh," he says, and promptly passes out from (what she hopes is only) shock.

* * *

.

.

* * *

Life doesn't quiet return to normal from there on out. Several days are spent with Bucky in the infirmary as his body scans returned to report him malnourished with a too low body temperature and several non-grievous injuries that nonetheless need looking at. The TARDIS remains floating in space all the meanwhile, content to give him time to recover and acclimate to his new surroundings. And, well, everything else.

"So you're an alien. Huh."

Clara rolls her eyes. "No, I'm a human travelling in an alien time machine. We're both human."

"Immortal, though," Me's voice pipes up dryly behind her, where she's typing in coordinates into the console. The TARDIS rebuffs her for the fourth time and Me settles back on her heels with a huff.

"And we are in space," Bucky continues, eyeing the two women with no small amount of suspicion in his gaze.

"Yep." Clara pops the "p" and snaps her fingers for the front doors to open. Outside the TARDIS the abyss greets them, twinkling with a million planets and stars. Bucky edges towards it with wide eyes.

"I can even hang you upside down by your ankle if you want," Clara offers with a grin, remembering some old story of the Doctor's. The Time Lord's voice inside of her chuckles his approval at her proposal.

Bucky looks back at her with a slightly green face. "I think I'll pass, doll." He returns back to where she's sitting by the console, startling when the doors close behind him all by themselves. "What did you say about this being a time travelling machine?"

"Ship," Me corrects him from where she is now glaring at the screen before her. "Time and Relative Dimension in Space. The TARDIS. We travel through space and time, though right now she's refusing to go anywhere."

Bucky eyes her and the screens before him warily. "Right..." There's a pregnant pause before he speaks up again. "Wait, what did you say about you two bein' immortal?"

"Well," Clara leans forward in her seat to capture his attention, a devious grin rising to her lips. This was kind of fun - she could see why the Doctor was so fond of kidnapping humans. "You see, it started for me when I died..."

* * *

.

.

* * *

The TARDIS does decide to fly eventually and lands them on what, as the observation screen is showing them, appears to be some sort of man-made garden.

Bucky's steps falter the moment he steps outside the doors with them and into the lobby of the diner the TARDIS surrounds her front doors with. "Wait, we've been in a restaurant all this time?" He peeks behind him to where the console room is still sitting.

"She's bigger on the inside," Clara offers before stopping to contemplate the thought. "Or is it smaller on the inside now? Huh."

"We are not in a restaurant," Me explains beside them as she shuts the door marked _EMPLOYEES ONLY._ "This is still technically the TARDIS. Now let's go, evidently she wanted you for something and we are still in the wrong universe."

Clara sniffs at the air, ignoring Bucky's confused squawk of _wrong universe?_. "You're right. This is weird." The two women exchange glances between them and begin herding their eternally confused companion outside.

The man-made garden turns out to be not only man made but also rooftop and the three gaze out at the skyline stretching out before them. "We're on one hell of a building," Clara comments while shielding her eyes against the sun. "What city is this? Are we still in New York?"

"That's what the screen said," comes the reply from Me. "Apparently we are in 2012. Quite the time jump."

The sound of doors swishing interrupts their conversation and the trio turn their attention to a corner of the roof where an elevator arriving had escaped their notice. Three figures emerge and the one leading them hurries forward, his voice angry as he calls out:

"Alright, who the _hell_ got a diner on top of my roof and _how_ the hell did you do it?!"

"Oops," Me deadpans in response. The owner of the voice stops in front of them and slides his sunglasses down his nose, peering at them in absolute confusion. Clara doesn't let it escape her that one of his companions, a red headed woman, is holding a gun at them and the other that towers above everybody present is slowly beginning to gape as his eyes settle on—

"Bucky!?"

Bucky's voice echoes him in its incredulity:

"Steve!?"

Sunglasses rolls his eyes. "Tony!" He barks out sarcastically before angling his body in the direction of his slack-jawed friend. "Wait, Capsicle, you know these three?"

It takes Clara a moment to place why "Capsicle"'s face looks so familiar. "Steve Rogers?" She squeaks out. "You got... Big!"

The man wearing Steve's face ignores her. "But you're supposed to be dead!" He sputters in the direction of Bucky, who is doing a great imitation of his friend's slack-jawed look.

"That was the plan," the brunette finally says. "But then they showed up—" he motions in the vague direction of the TARDIS, "—with some alien time machine and next thing I know I'm here and wait, is this actually 2012? How are you alive?"

"How are _you_ alive?" Steve echoes back and the two men stare in silence at each other before slowly edging closer.

"Wait," Sunglasses interrupts. "Did someone say _alien time machine_? Could anyone, please, explain to me what the hell is going on here and why is there a diner on my rooftop?"

As if waiting for his words the TARDIS begins chiming again, this time not only inside the heads of Clara and Me as all present drop to the ground to cover their ears. "Well, I think that's our cue to go," Clara manages past her anguish and grabs hands with Me before stumbling into the doors of the Diner-TARDIS.

The moment they step inside the console room the ship begins shuddering again and throwing them every which way as she disappears from the rooftop and into a hole in time and space. The journey takes only moments this time around and soon enough they're drifting peacefully through space again, as if their side trip to an alternate universe had never even happened.

"Well," Me declares after both take stock of their well-being, checking for any bruises. "I am certainly glad that is over. The air there tastes ghastly." She scrunches up her nose. "Too much testosterone."

From her side of the console floor, Clara manages a wheezing laugh.


End file.
